


reduce, reuse, reanimate

by exarite



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Necromancer Tobirama, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite
Summary: "As great as a healer my brother is,"  Tobirama starts, and fervently ignores Hashirama's awww of pleasure at the compliment from his taciturn brother, "he can not raise the dead.""What, and you can?" Madara scoffs and Tobirama frowns at him in displeasure. Mito gives him a look, as if to tell him to shut up, but Madara does not answer to her."Yes," he says simply, and turns back to Izuna's body.::Magic and fantasy AU with Necromancer Tobirama.





	reduce, reuse, reanimate

**Author's Note:**

> Modern fantasy AU?? Magic and shit instead of chakra. watch me make up magic logic and worldbuilding and try to adjust naruto canon to this fantasy au.
> 
> this is based on that tumblr post about how being a necromancer isn't a good coping mechanism, and then people kept calling out Tobirama in the tags.

"It's too late, he's already dead," Mito says solemnly. Madara slumps, his body curled into himself and his eyes distant as he stares at his brother's still body. Hashirama blinks at that and only tilts his head.

"Why didn't you say that when you called? I would have sent Tobi instead of me." He sounds severely off put, a small pout on his lips. Madara gapes at him. Tobirama, his brother? What could he possibly do?

"I'll get him now, there's still probably enough time," Hashirama assures him. Madara bites back any of his confused complaints. He trusts Hashirama with his life.

When Tobirama arrives in the speed he's known for, Madara doesn't even jump anymore. He's far too used to the younger Senju's sudden appearances.

"Tobi!" Hashirama says excitedly. Tobirama only glances at him with his customary scowl (really, it's much more of a pout, but Madara’s not going to be the one to point it out). He strides towards Izuna's body and places a hand on the center of his forehead.

"It's been 22 minutes since he's died," Tobirama intones solemnly. He lifts his head to raise an eyebrow at Mito, "You should have called me earlier."

"And what could you have done?" Madara spits and Tobirama turns his gaze to regard him with disdain, his cold red eyes frightening.

"As great as a healer my brother is,"  he starts, and fervently ignores Hashirama's awww of pleasure at the compliment from his taciturn brother, "he can not raise the dead."

"What, and you can?" Madara scoffs and Tobirama frowns at him in displeasure. Mito gives him a look, as if to tell him to shut up, but Madara does not answer to her.

"Yes," he says simply, and turns back to Izuna's body.

"What?" Madara asks, and looks to Hashirama in desperate need of help.

"Why," Hashirama says in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. "Tobi's a necromancer!"

A necromancer????

Madara’s eyes narrow. He straightens up but doesn’t dare to approach them, not when Tobirama’s hands are already on his brother’s body and his eyes are glowing. He knows better than to interrupt whatever magic’s at work. He knows very well the backlash of interrupted magic.

Tobirama revives Izuna by literally pulling his soul back into his body and forcing it down his throat. Softly, Tobirama explains that it was usually easier the shorter it had been since the body's last breath and required less from him.

While Tobirama is tying Izuna's soul back to his body, Hashirama works on the other side to heal over the deep damage that Izuna had taken.

The Uchiha were magicians that thrived of death, illusionists whose magic only grew stronger with each death they witnessed. They weren't very well liked because of it. Tobirama especially found them distasteful, and he made no effort to hide it.

But of course he did. It was no wonder why the Senju despised them so much. The Senju brothers were magicians of life, of health, of everything the Uchiha did their very best to go against. They were Earth and Water, while the Uchiha were Fire and Lightning, destruction incarnate.

Even now, even after the death of his brother, Madara can’t help but think about the evolution of his Sharingan into the Mangekyou. He is ashamed, but he’ll take every advantage he can get.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize it earlier, the life-giving properties of plants that grow where Hashirama walks, the water that Tobirama can spell into being from nothing. He had known about Hashirama’s affinity towards the healing arts, surpassed only by his cousin, Tsunade. He hadn’t known that Tobirama dabbled between life and death, but now…

Death seems a whole less scarier.

Tobirama leans down closer towards Izuna and Hashirama shifts, his expression changing. They exchange a look and the green glow of Hashirama’s healing magic dies out as he pulls his hands away from Izuna’s front. The only evidence of Izuna’s demise is the rips of his clothes. The skin underneath is flawless, if tinged a little pink.

And then Tobirama presses his lips to Izuna’s and Madara shoots up.

“Hey!” He barks, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Hashirama quells him with a single look, and it’s only because of his trust for him that Madara doesn’t tear Tobirama away from his brother.

Tobirama pulls away, his eyes slightly dull and a light sheen of swear over his features and then…

Izuna’s eyes flutter open. Madara’s eyes widen, his heart loud in chest as he watches his brother slowly sit up, a lost look on his features. Izuna pats his front and his stomach in confusion, eyebrows wrinkled.

“Izuna,” Madara sighs in relief and makes for his brother.

“Wait,” Tobirama says, and frowns at him.

Madara shoots him a disgruntled look and Tobirama glares. “Your magic will interfere, Uchiha. Let his magic settle.”

“What happened?” Izuna mutters, his eyes still blinking blearily.

“You died, you idiot,” Madara snipes and Izuna frowns. He steps closer to the table, making sure to keep a good distance and not touch his brother, despite how much he wants to.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Tobirama stumble slightly and Hashirama quickly bracing him, a look of concern on his face.

Tobirama doesn’t even need to give him permission to touch his brother, Madara feels it for himself when the fire-and-lightning crackle of his brother’s magic settles, and Tobirama’s own water-natured magic sinks in.

He pays it no mind when Tobirama excuses himself and leaves.

*

Madara learns a few things.

The first person that Tobirama has ever brought back from the dead was Hashirama. He was desperate then, and Madara understands. He has his own brother too, after all. They've both lost two of their younger brothers, and neither of them were willing to part with another.

Tobirama doesn’t do it often, and it’s a secret to most people in their clan. Madara and Izuna are now part of the select few in the know.

He’s surprised, honestly. Mito and Hashirama have been dating for awhile now, and he had figured that Hashirama had already told her about it earlier. But he supposes that it had never come up in conversation with him, or Tobirama had forbidden him from sharing secrets with their once-enemies. Either way, once him and Izuna have been brought into the fold, Mito seals their tongue to make sure they don’t speak of it. Although her magic laid in runes and ink and paper, it was no less powerful and much longer lasting than any other magic Madara knows of.

Another thing he learns is that Tobirama doesn’t like to be called a necromancer. Raising the dead is just one of his many skills, he had sniped. Tobirama was more famous for his skill and mastery over water and the nature of his magic to sense the presence of both enemy and friend.

And…Madara doesn’t deny it, but the knowledge that they are allies (although tentative ones) with the Senju brothers has made him a little less caring of his own life. What is death, after all, to one who is allies with someone that can raise the dead?

There are risks in every mission they partake, and there are times that Madara doesn’t take certain risks, even if he knows they’ll be worth it. He doesn’t want to die after all.

But now he’s reckless.

Their war against the demons has gone on far too long and Madara is desperate to end it. He has always told himself that he was prepared to die for it, if it meant peace for Izuna and the rest of the Uchiha.

But… with no demons to fight against, there would be no common enemy for the Senju and the Uchiha. Madara knows that they would just continue their animosity towards each other. But still. It would be better than what they had now.

And so when the demon commander comes, Madara throws himself into the fight without care. He can take him out as long as he gets close, and so Madara barrels forwards. There are certain materials to kill demons, blades dipped with holy water and blessed over by priests, but it makes it hard for magicians such as he. He will die from this, he knows, but he will take the commander with him and it will significantly weaken their forces. Tobirama can just bring him back after all.

He doesn’t regret it, not when he finally breathes fire and calls down lightning on the slimy son of a bitch. Not when in a desperate attempt to get back at him, the demon wraps his shadow hands around Madara’s throat and squeezes. Not even when slowly, the light fades away.

He’s killed the commander. They’ve won this battle.

Dying isn’t all that bad, he thinks. 

Izuna had told him what it was like to be dead. He had described it as floating, a sense of a lost purpose. He doesn’t remember what had happened in between his death and his revival, but he tells Madara about the feel of Tobirama’s magic around his, how it had felt like he was drowning. Their fire magic didn’t meld well with Tobirama’s. 

There’s a moment of clarity where you see everything, when you’re in between the spirit world and the world of the living, and this, Izuna still remembers.

It’s only a few seconds, a minute at most, but Izuna had told him that he could see everyone’s very soul, and the core of magic within them.

It was an accurate description, more or less, but seeing it for himself was different. 

There’s a moment where he’s dead, and then he’s not, but he’s not alive either. He can feel Tobirama’s magic around his soul and he understands now what Izuna had meant about it not being compatible with theirs. His fire nature fights against Tobirama’s, but Madara controls it, taming the fire into a slow gentle burn rather than the raging forest fire it had been. He dislikes Tobirama, but he wasn’t enough of an ass to make it harder for him than it should be.

There’s a pause, and then that brief moment of clarity. Hashirama’s magic was a deep green, the color of the forest, Tobirama’s a cool blue. There’s something with Tobirama’s magic though, and there are hints of blue in Hashirama… Madara squints, but then his vision disappears.

He opens his eyes and looks up into Tobirama’s red eyes.

Tobirama glares at him and pulls away, shaking his head.

Madara sits up, and even though he feels woozy, he directs a smirk at the Senju brothers. “The commander is dead,” he says smugly. “The tide has turned.”

Tobirama bristles. “You died, Madara, don’t play it off as if it were nothing.”  
  
Madara waves a hand dismissively and shrugs. “You brought me back, didn’t you? Everything is fine.”

Tobirama’s eyes narrow and his hackles raise for a moment before he turns and stalks away. Madara rolls his eyes and turns to face Hashirama.

Surprisingly, his cheerful friend looks anything but. Granted, Madara did just die in front of him, but he’s okay now. Hashirama has always been one for the dramatics.

They make their way back to the camp and with biting words, Tobirama tells him to get some rest. If Madara didn’t know any better, he’d say Tobirama actually cared.

The two brothers enter their tent, clearly dismissing him and Madara hesitates.

He stays, for a moment, and he knows he isn’t meant to overhear their conversation, but he does.

“This is the second time, Tobi,” Hashirama says. “You’re giving up too much.”

“He’s your best friend,” Tobirama replies and for a moment, Hashirama is silent. Madara knows Hashirama well enough that he can picture Hashirama’s face, forlorn and offput.

“You’re my brother,” Hashirama finally replies, voice soft. “He was ungrateful when you revived him. He took it for granted.”

“And I’d do it again if I have to,” Tobirama says, finality in his tone, and that is that.

Madara leaves. He can’t help but feel off balanced. Earlier, he would have bet that the conversation would go the other way, with Tobirama deciding to stop reviving him and Hashirama defending him as he always does. But hearing Tobirama's fervent defense of his decisions... Madara can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the offhand way he had treated Tobirama's revival of him.

He'll apologize. Maybe. Possibly not.

*

The second time Madara dies, it’s not of his choice.

He’s been separated from his team, alone with the demon witch they’ve been hunting. His magic is straining, only dredges left from his inner supply.

“You’ll die today, little human. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you murdered my brother.”

"It's okay," Madara says dismissively, baring his teeth in a bloody grin. "Tobirama will just bring me back to life."

The demon stares at him and then bursts into unexpected laughter. Madara falters, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Foolish boy," she sneers. "You know magic doesn't come without a price." At the confused look on his face she falls into peals of laughter again. "Did you ever stop to think what your dear friend has been giving up?”

"Maybe he'll tell you," she croons, and with a curl of her fingers, his sword is yanked away from his hand and floats, pointing at Madara's chest. “Tell your friend we can’t wait to see him.”

He feels overwhelming pain, and then Madara blacks out.

He comes to when the familiar feel of Tobirama's magic wraps around his soul. Something prods him to pay close attention this time and so Madara does.

And he sees.

It's not just Tobirama's magic that's curling around his, pulling him back into the world of the living and guiding him back into his body. It's his _soul_ , his very life force, and Madara hates himself for not realizing it earlier. Of course it is, the world of the dead is closed to everything but.

Madara is paying attention this time and so he sees how wisps of Tobirama's spirit stays in the world of the dead. Tobirama kisses him, and breathes life back into him and horrified, Madara sees now why Tobirama doesn’t let anyone touch the newly revived.

His magic is crackling, but it’s not just his magic that’s in his body, it’s Tobirama’s. There’s a period of time where Madara’s magic wrestles for control over Tobirama’s, even as Tobirama’s magic anchors Madara’s spirit to his body. In the brief moments where Madara is more spirit than alive, he can see the dredges and the wisps of Tobirama’s magic and life force that has stayed inside of Madara’s body.

His head turns and he sees into Hashirama. If he had a body, his hands would be shaking now at the new knowledge. Hashirama’s own magic is mixed with bits and pieces of his younger brother’s. Madara knows that if Izuna were in the room, he’d be able to see bits of Tobirama’s life force mingled with his too.

When he comes to, Tobirama looks furious but Madara is even angrier. Hashirama looks relieved at his other side, but Madara ignores him.

“You idiot! Do you care so little about your own life?” Tobirama seethes and Madara sees red.

He feels the fire within him burn, and his hand grasps Tobirama’s shirt to yank him closer to him and Tobirama automatically grabs at his wrist but doesn’t push him away.

“You dare?” he hisses, “What about you, Senju?”

Tobirama’s eyes widen, his grip on Madara’s wrist faltering.

“What do you give up each time you bring someone back to life?” Madara asks. Tobirama stays silent, his red eyes never breaking from Madara’s Sharingan. It’s a sign of trust, and since when has Tobirama trusted him enough to meet his eyes? There are Uchiha who wouldn’t even meet his eyes, too afraid to fall prey to their Clan Head’s stronger illusions.

“Tobi?” Hashirama says quietly. They both ignore him.

“What do you give up?” Madara demands, shaking Tobirama slightly by the front of his shirt.

“My own life,” Tobirama spits out and Madara… Madara is furious. He lets go of Tobirama and shakes his head. Hashirama looks solemn, his hand on Tobirama’s, steady and strong.

“Never revive me again, Senju.” Madara glares at Tobirama. He pushes himself off the ground and makes to stalk away.

Before he can go anywhere, Tobirama has grabbed onto his sleeve and spun him around.

“What do you want me to do?” he growls, “Leave you for dead?”

“Yes!”

“I can’t do that,” Tobirama says, his voice strangled and Madara scoffs.

“And why not? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind not dealing with me, don’t even—“

“Shut up,” Tobirama interrupts. Madara opens his mouth in offense, but Tobirama shakes his head. 

Madara snarls, rising up in Tobirama’s face. 

“Don’t tell me to—“

Tobirama cuts him off, his hands coming up to cup Madara’s face and pull him in for a furious kiss. Incensed, Madara kisses back, biting bruises onto his lips, his eyes squeezing shut. Tobirama’s mouth is warm and wet against his and god, Madara didn’t even know he had wanted this but now, he doesn’t want Tobirama to pull away.

His hand comes up to grip at the back of Tobirama’s neck, the other curling around the front of his shirt, his grip firm and unrelenting as he opens his mouth to Tobirama’s almost desperate assault.

They part, both breathing heavily. The red of Tobirama’s eyes are lit up with something that Madara can’t name, but it makes his heart hurt all the same.

 “I said shut up,” Tobirama says quietly. Madara’s lips thin and then he pushes the other man away, drawing himself up to his full height, even as his body aches and his head pounds.

“If I die,” Madara says, voice shaking. Tobirama opens his mouth and Madara’s Sharingan activates, his hands trembling against the back of Tobirama’s neck and his chest. He clenches them, hoping to still their trembles, and it works, if only for a while. “If I die, then _let me die_.”

Tobirama’s jaw tightens and the red marks on his face shift underneath the muscle and bone. Madara knows him, knows that he wants to refuse. 

“She said that they can’t wait to see you.” He didn’t want to tell Tobirama what the demon spirit had said, but it had felt important.

Tobirama’s eyes flash, but he quickly looks away. Silently, he takes a step back from Madara and turns his back on him.

Madara lets him leave. The door clicks shut behind him, the quiet sound ominous and leaving Hashirama and Madara alone.

Madara turns to face him, his eyes burning with the fire in his body. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, “Why did you keep letting your brother revive me?"

Hashirama stares at him forlornly. It’s nothing like his childish pouts or his bouts of brooding. 

“Because,” he says simply. “Tobirama would die before he’d let you stay dead.”

“And that’s exactly what’s going to happen, isn’t it?” Madara says flatly.

Hashirama doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need to.

*

Madara is well aware of the price of magic. Some had a greater price than others.

The Uchiha with their illusions slowly went blind, and the fevers that came after they used their fire.

There was Tsunade who could heal herself from any injury, but took days, months and years out of her life just to do it.

There were some that merely had to give offerings and worship to spirits or nature, such as the Inuzuka or the Hatake, and there were some that were bound to serve creatures of old. There were some--jinchuuriki, as they were called--that housed beings inside of them in exchange for their magic.

He was a fool to think that Tobirama’s Breath of Life was any different. It was like Tsunade’s in a way, except now that Madara was looking out for it, he could see the signs. Tobirama always looked drained after a revival, and it took him a long time to recover the longer someone had been dead. There was a pallid texture to his features, a weakness in the way he walked or fought…

The greater the price after all, the greater the magic.

There was no denying it. Tobirama was killing himself with each resurrection. It was more potent than Tsunade’s healing. Madara had no clue how much more revivals Tobirama could do, but he did know one thing.

Nothing was worth Tobirama’s life. Not even his own. He couldn’t allow the Senju to continue to be a self-sacrificing idiot.

He thought that meant just keeping Tobirama from reviving any more people, but when their next battle comes and Tobirama is taken in by dark, lecherous hands of the demon head…

Madara doesn’t quite understand what’s happened at first.

It’s only when Hashirama screams his brother’s name, wood erupting from the ground to intercept the demon leeching his brother’s life that Madara realizes.

Tobirama is dead.

*

“Tell me,” Madara hisses, hands grasping at Hashirama’s shirt in desperation. “Tell me how he learned to bring you back.”

Hashirama’s jaw tightens and he stares Madara in the eye, not backing down. “Tobirama would not want this,” he says, hand gentle as he grasps Madara’s.

Madara shakes his head, his features twisted in anger and a grief he doesn't quite understand. “I wouldn’t want him to revive me either, but you know he’d do it anyway.”

“Why, Madara?” Hashirama demands, his warm brown eyes hard for once. “Why do you want so bad to revive Tobi?”

“Don’t you?” Madara asks in disbelief and Hashirama sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I do, but I’m asking you.”

Madara bites back everything he wants to say. There’s a lot of reasons he could give Hashirama. He owed Tobirama, both for bringing back his brother, and bringing him back twice. Tobirama… although Madara dislikes most of him, he had grown close to the man after the second time Tobirama had brought him back and they had shared that kiss. They hadn’t kissed again since then, never even brought it up, but that didn’t change the fact that Madara now consids Tobirama as a friend.

But none of those reasons are why.

“I care for him,” Madara stiffly replies. “Deeply.”

It was a confession all in its own coming from him. The Uchiha loved passionately, loved deeply, but Madara did not dare admit it to Hashirama. If he had to admit his love for the Senju to anyone, it would be Tobirama himself and Madara fully intended to do just so.

Madara sees the moment that Hashirama breaks.

“Fine,” his friend relents. “I’ll show you.”

*

Madara stares at the fox-child in front of him. He was Mito’s nephew. A teenager in human standards, but a child in theirs.

“Eh??” The kid asks, “You want to bring people back to life?”

Madara grits his teeth. “Yes. I do.”

“Ahh, well, I’ll ask Kurama for you then, dattebayo,” Naruto says, scratching the back of his head. Kurama… the Kyuubi. A being made purely out of magic, neither of the living or of the dead. Madara needs his magic in order his own soul to be able to cross to the land of the dead and back. Tobirama had already dealt with him once before, when the Kyuubi had still been tied to Mito, and that was enough. Mito had wanted Hashirama back too, after all.

“You’ll need Tsunade to teach you how to heal also,” Hashirama mutters from beside him, frowning thoughtfully. “But your magic isn’t fit for healing, so there would have to be an alternative.” What Tobirama did was just the extreme of Tsunade’s healing technique, an exchange of life force. Or well, life, in general.

The pink-haired girl that had been lounging near Naruto’s side clears her throat. Madara turns his gaze towards her and raises an eyebrow. He knows of her. Tsunade’s apprentice in the healing arts, and one of his own’s prospect for a mate.

“Sasuke’s girl, aren’t you?” Madara asks dryly. She falters at that, her cheeks pinking before she straightens up and glares at him.

“Mine is. I can do it, if you’d like. I can control your magic and help you with the giving and the healing and the whole putting his soul back in his body,” she tells him.

“Really?” Hashirama asks curiously. “That’s amazing. What’s your magic, young one?”

“Sakura,” she says, smiling slightly. “I have perfect control. Magic over magic, if you may.”

Madara nods. He would have found this interesting, in another time, but now… Tobirama was waiting for him.

“We still need a sensor,” Madara murmurs. Tobirama was a sensor himself, and it was easy for him to seek the souls and the magic of those recently diseased. For all of Madara’s skills, this was not one of them.

Naruto waves a hand and grins. “Don’t worry about that. I have another cousin.”

*

It’s been 12 hours since Tobirama has died.

Madara closes his eyes and places a hand on Tobirama’s chest. Uzumaki Karin’s hand is steady on his shoulder and on his other, is Sakura’s hand. The Kyuubi’s chakra is burning in his stomach. Hashirama is in front of him, already ready to the damage that Tobirama had taken.

Karin channels her chakra through him, the wind nature of it sharp, and for a moment, Madara doesn’t quite know what to do with it. A breath later, and the needle threads of Sakura’s magic enters him and pulls their magic together, three into one. The wind nature of Karin and the water nature of Sakura, while both antagonistic to his own fire, is easily separated by Sakura out through his other hand that’s encased in magic dampening seals courtesy of Mito.

He feels it, the moment that his own magic suddenly gains the ability to sense and heal instead of destroy and trick.

He takes in a deep breath, and searches for Tobirama’s soul and magic.

When he finds it, a part of his own spirit sings in recognition and belatedly, Madara realizes that bits of Tobirama’s life spirit still remain in him. What would happen if he were to give it back, he wonders…

He can’t, he finds. The parts of Tobirama’s soul had already clung to his, the line between Madara and Tobirama gone and there’s no need to separate them right now. No, Madara can’t afford to be distracted.

He understands now how much it had taken from Tobirama. It’s a slow and tedious process, even with Sakura and Karin’s help. Bit by bit, Madara’s spirit nudges Tobirama’s into place, tames his magic and melds it back into his body. His water nature would have won over his fire, but the water of Sakura’s helps control it.

And then, when Tobirama’s soul is back in his body and his magic is rippling underneath his skin, there’s only one thing left to do. Karin and Sakura take their hands away from him, and he can feel his own magic again, familiar and recognizable. Madara bends down, presses his lips over Tobirama’s and then breathes into him.

A moment, then two, and Madara fears that he had made a mistake somewhere but then—

Tobirama’s eyes flutter open.

Madara slumps, and presses his forehead against his.

“Don’t do that again,” Tobirama rasps, his red eyes dark. Madara stifles a relieved laugh. The grumpiness doesn’t deter him, not even in the slightest.

“I could say the same for you,” he scolds half-heartedly.

Tobirama sits up, and Madara leans away. They stare at each other for a moment and then Madara reaches up to frame Tobirama’s face with his hands. His thumbs brush over the red lines on Tobirama’s cheeks and tentatively, so unlike him, he pulls Tobirama in for a kiss.

It’s much more gentle than their first, soft and chaste, and when Madara pulls away, he steels himself.

“I—“ _I love you_ , he wants to say, but the words don’t come. His jaw tightens and there must be something in his eyes because Tobirama’s face softens.

“Me too,” Tobirama says quietly and Madara nods stiffly.

A piece of Madara’s life force and magic is in Tobirama now, just as pieces of Tobirama’s are in his.

He finds that he doesn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> so!! i got into MadaTobi because of raendown's works, so if you're looking for some good MadaTobi fics, I'm pointing you now in that direction.
> 
> i am also on [tumblr!](http://amor-vitae.tumblr.com)


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